


Because Honour Demanded It.

by Corina (CorinaLannister)



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Jaime Lannister Lives, Letters, Marriage Proposal, POV Brienne of Tarth, Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:29:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27198535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CorinaLannister/pseuds/Corina
Summary: In which the events of canon happened and nothing changed except Jaime Lannister survived. A post canon fix it fic for Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 8
Kudos: 63
Collections: Fic In A Box





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [coaldustcanary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coaldustcanary/gifts).



Brienne of Tarth had already broken two engagements, it was her fault both times. She could not afford to break a third. Looking down at the letter in her hand, she sighed, this was one she had to accept. She had no doubts about marrying this man. This man had honour, he had helped her several times, she trusted him, despite all he had done. The Tarth line would not be broken and she would do her father proud. Though, she doubted the man would be her father's first choice to be her husband. He would rejoice in her good fortune as he had long since given up hope that she would ever marry. It had been a few years since her father had even spoken to her of marriage as Brienne suspected he had long since given up any hope of her being married. 

At a young age, Brienne had been told that she had to marry no matter how much she wished it wasn’t the case. Her father had lined up two suitors for her, two potential matches which would further the prospects for their noble house. Yet, it hadn’t come to pass. Brienne could not in good faith marry either of the two men. She had even broken the bones of her last potential husband. Brienne couldn’t help but feel like she had let her father Lord Selwyn Tarth down. There would be other prospects, she had said, yet that wasn’t the case. It had been a few years and no one else had wanted to marry her. One failed engagement was enough to turn heads and raise eyebrows, but two, that was unheard of. 

One failed engagement could be chalked down to families changing their minds, or getting better offers from more prosperous families. Especially in war times, a potential suitor may be spurned and tossed aside for a better offer. Yet, there were two black marks besides her name. More reason for people to not want to enter marriage negotiations with her father for her. Who would believe that she was still a maid? Even if they were to travel all the way to Tarth and find out for themselves, the cost of that would far outweigh the potential risks if she was found to be ‘damaged goods’. Then there were the whispers of ‘Brienne the Beauty’, her ugliness, her manish mannerisms and her proclivity to best her suitors in the art of battle. Her chances of being matched again were next to none. But she vowed she would not let her father down again, she would marry the next suitor who her father deemed acceptable. 

After her first two failed engagements, she had set off, leaving the isle behind, to find her own fortune, another black mark was added to her name. Brienne had wanted to make a name for herself, to show others that women could wield a sword and knock men into dirt. She did just that, but that had left her alone with many a man and her virtue, although intact, was a thing no one believed she would still have. Especially after being kept prisoner at the Boltons and travelling alongside the Kingslayer. That one had granted her the name, Kingslayer’s Whore. 

Yet, she could not believe her eyes when staring down at the piece of parchment, sent by the man who she had lain with at Winterfell. The man who had pushed a boy out of a window, the man who had murdered his cousin, the man who had copulated with his Sister Cersei. Brienne closed her eyes and looked down upon the paper again, ‘I will marry you, Ser Brienne, if you would have me, but only if you accept my shoddy golden hand’. It was there, in that scratchy, somewhat unreadable, hand writing of his. He wanted to marry her and that thought made her heart skip a beat. In fact, when Brienne had first read the letter, she thought that he said he would marry her in jest. Her heart fluttered when she read the opening to the letter again. 

Granted, it was unorthodox. There would be no courtship period, there would be no meisters checking for her maidenhead and confirming her status as a maid. For she was not a maid, not anymore. There would also be no negotiations of a dowry, or of any lands, titles, holdings, armies or trade agreements. Their fathers would not be negotiating the best possible deals on their behalf. There would be no grand feast or large ceremony. There would only be them out in the Godswood, for he was on his way to Winterfell. Brienne could lie and say that she wasn’t looking forward to it, but she was. She ached to interact with him once more. Her life was dull when he wasn’t around. Yet, she had her fears about what his reaction would be, but she needn’t have feared at all. 

The last time she had seen the man, he had broken her down, torn her soul apart and left her. Left her for another woman no less. He had rode out the gates of Winterfell, at speed, not even looking behind once, to see her sobbing form on the ground. She had given everything to him. He had knighted her and bedded her. Something which she had been curious about for a while. Brienne had lain herself bare in front of him, defying all expectations and further damaging her name. No one else would have her now, what had been true before, had now been cemented. There were far too many black marks on her name. Most of them were because of this man, she had almost been raped, he had saved her, she had almost been killed by a bear, he had saved her. Yet, he was going to marry her. He would marry her because it was the right thing to do. Not because he loved her but because honor demanded it. This was a way in which he could atone, a way in which he could have his redemption. His long awaited redemption was in his clutches. 

His name was Jaime Lannister, and she was carrying his child.


	2. Chapter 2

It was long after she knew she was pregnant that Brienne decided she had to inform the people she loved about it. It took her more parchment than she cared to admit to finish the task. The letter to her father came easily. However, the letter to Ser Jaime took many more attempts, and many sleepless nights. Brienne could take the stress and pain no longer and decided that enough was enough. The letter would be done and sent that day. Brienne’s letter writing attempts took her well into the night, she had run out two full candles. Many crumpled pieces of parchment lay scattered around her. Evidence of the time she had spent trying to get her letter right. The final version which she was about to attach to a raven was littered with smudges. It couldn’t be helped due to the nature of what was being said in the letter. It was of utmost importance that it got to its intended recipient as soon as possible. Even if nothing were to come of the letter, she would rest easier knowing that she had sent it. 

Another letter, which she had written weeks before, laid on her table, covered in a fine layer of dust. That was a letter she wanted to send even less than the one to Ser Jaime. It was for her father. Informing him of what was going to happen. It was the only way she could see her future happening. 

Brienne held her ring, with her house's symbol on it, over the melted wax, which she would use to seal the two missives. Once she did this, there would be no turning back. No do-overs. She quickly stamped her ring into the letter for Ser Jaime. Then, hesitated over her father's letter before stamping that one also. 

Once Brienne sealed them both, a lone tear rolled down her cheek, she was dreading hearing what the reply to her letters would be. She even considered if any reply would ever come from Ser Jaime. He had left her, after all. These letters would either seal her future as a crone, doomed to live life alone, at Winterfell, under Queen Sansa’s generous protection or it could change her life, for better or for worse. 

When she stood to deliver the missive to the rookery, a pain erupted at her back. Her hands immediately went to it’s point and tried to provide relief, but to no avail. She had been putting off writing this letter to Ser Jaime, not wanting to hear his response. 

It was without a doubt true that she was pregnant. At first, it had been a loss of appetite, a change in her sleeping pattern. She missed her first moonblood but Brienne thought nothing of it, but it happened again...and again. Brienne knew she should see the Meister but kept thinking she wanted to be sure. When she could put it off no longer, because she was starting to bulge, she went to see Winterfell’s Meister. It had been many moons since she had found out, it had taken her this long to get the courage up to send the letters. But they could wait no longer, if the recipients wanted to be there in time for the birth. For the child's name day. 

The Meister had told her that she was pregnant. Confirming what she already knew deep down. That she was carrying Ser Jaime’s child. He was the only man she had lain with, there was no one else, there would never be anyone like him. 

Brienne took several deep calming breaths before beginning to waddle to her destination. It took her thrice as long as it usually would and she was not even halfway to her destination. Being pregnant had taken a toll on her energy and fitness levels. 

When she reached the rookery, there was no one around. At least she could send her letters in peace. Though, sending them took more time than she thought it would. When opening one of the cages, to retrieve a raven, it flew right by her head, causing her to let out an indignant shriek. 

“By the gods, even the ravens are leaving me,” Brienne said exasperated. She would not bother to chase down the one she set loose. It would take too much effort and concentration. “Come here, little raven…” Brienne tried to get the raven back but it kept its steely gaze on her. Staring at her, without moving besides to prean its wings. It’s eyes then went straight back to her as she opened her mouth to speak again. So Brienne switched tactics. 

Brienne had much more luck when approaching other ravens, she knew now to open each cage only a little. To not let the raven roam free before the letter was attached. Attaching the letters was the easier part of the challenge. 

She sent two letters that day. One to Ser Jaime and one to her father. Her eyes stayed on the ravens for as long as possible. A part of her still itching to take the letters back and throw them onto the hearth of her room, like she had done to several previous versions. Once they were out of sight, she spent more time than she cared to admit, just sitting in the rookery trying to get her to breathe back. Her mind whirling with the possibilities, with all the outcomes of the letters she had written coming up one after another, faster than she could comprehend in her current tired state. Brienne only meant to close her eyes for a few moments but her exhaustion, both mental and physical kicked in and she fell into a restless sleep, right there in the rookery. 

When Brienne awoke with a jolt, she wondered where she was. The smell was what alerted her to the fact that she was no longer in her room. The blankets set upon her , and the pillow placed under her head were surprising, though not welcomed. She would later find out that it was the Queen of the North herself who had fetched the blanket from her room and put it on her. Podrick had been the one to watch over her all night. Though, he was now, fast asleep, his proclivity for not being the most observant and reliable squire showing through. 

When Brienne rolled herself to a standing position, with the help of the wall and a nearby cage, she remembered why she was where she was. Then her eyes widened and she had to disguise an inhale of breath as a cough. There was only one thing one could do in the rookery, and that was to send a missive. Brienne had sent a somewhat rather blunt letter to Ser Jaime, telling him he had a child and a more comforting letter to her father stating more or less the same thing. A squawk was heard, as if to say, I can sense your discomfort and Brienne twisted to stare into the eyes of a raven which seemed to be staring into her soul, before she shook her head. It was not the raven from last night. It was just another raven. Or so she told herself. 

Brienne left the rookery without a backwards glance, not wanting to be reminded of what she had done. The letters were out no, there was no going back from this. Whatever was to come, would. 

When she entered the courtyard, the dewy grass and mud glinted with the morning light. Brienne could see the sun rising in the distance, the sight a marvel to behold against the foreground of Winterfell’s newly repaired outerwall. She wondered if Jaime and her father were also looking at the same sun rising. Her hands went to rest above her belly, when she felt the baby kick, as if agreeing to her thoughts. 

\--------------------------------------------------------

Brienne was laying in bed when the first reply came a sennight later. She had stupidly told Podrick that she was waiting for replies to two letters and he wouldn’t stop going on about the replies she was going to get. Her squire overdid it when trying to comfort her, by making her assume and expect the replies to be more than they would be. He thought he was helping ease her fears but he was exasperating them. Making them rage out of control. 

“A letter for you, Ser Brienne,” Podrick stated, holding the object aloft before handing it to her. She took it, trying to hide the shaking of her hands. Podrick stood by her bedside, waiting, like she was going to open the missive and read it whilst he stood there, watching her. 

“Pod, aren’t you needed at the stables?” She said pointedly. Trying to get him to leave, without telling him that he had to leave. 

“...The stables. Why would I-”

“Pod!”

“Yes, the stables,” he said before hurrying out the room, finally receiving the message. 

With the reply in her hand. She felt her dread and anxiety reach new heights. She pushed herself up to a sitting position, wishing she hadn’t dismissed Podrick and readily disregarded any attempt of Sansa’s to give her a maid. Only once she was seated comfortably did she turn to the letter to look at the seal. 

She wanted it to be Ser Jaime, telling her of his acceptance of the babe and all that went with it. Brienne wanted her child to not be a bastard. Ser Jaime, would come to her rescue, as he had many times over. Surely. 

But, when she turned the letter and saw, not the Lannister but the Tarth house sigil, she deflated. The reply from her father would surely be the worst. He would be disappointed with her. 

Brienne broke the seal with trepidation, she had told a small lie in the letter to her father. She could not bear to tell him what had really transpired. The letter was not at all what she expected. The reply was brief. 

‘My dearest Brienne Lannister, 

That is the most wonderful news. Albeit, quite shocking, that you would not notify me beforehand. I had lost hope that this would happen. 

I have amassed a personal selection of guards and I am on my way to Winterfell now, for the birth. I should not like to miss that as well as the wedding. 

I have also sent a stern raven to Ser Jaime. He and I will have to have a little talk when I get there. I may have insulted his golden hand, called it shoddy, in my anger at not even being informed that my only daughter and heir was married. Much less that she was also with child. 

I do however trust your judgment in this matter. Should Ser Jaime prove an insufficient husband or hurt you in any way, I will defend your honour. Though, I have no doubts that you can defend yourself, even against a man of that calibre. 

We will be arriving in the next sennight or two. 

Lord Selwyn Tarth’

When Brienne finished reading the reply, her first reaction was to blurt, “Oh Gods. What have I done!”

The tears which she had been holding in started to fall. All rational thought leaving her. She wanted to fold in on herself but found she couldn’t due to the babe growing inside her. Her arms wrapped around her middle, protectively positioned. Her breathing quickened and became increasingly difficult. 

“I’ll not let anything hurt you,” Brienne whispered before closing her eyes and resting once more. Moving anywhere was getting too painful. Then, what she had been dreading happening, happened, she made water. And not, in the traditional way. The babe was coming. 

\------------------------------------------------------------

The birthing bed had not been kind to Brienne. There had been more blood than was normal. It was taking her a long time to recover. Many people bustled around her quarters. It was feared that she would be lost. That she would not regain enough strength to get up again. 

Brienne regained and lost consciousness a few times. Her nightmares plaguing her, in the form of her father, Gideon and Ser Jaime. There were times when she felt hands helping her up, a hand brushing against her cheek, a hand helping her swallow. The sensation of liquid pouring down her throat. 

There was the odd sensation of being underwater and not hearing what people said around her, when she came to. Although, she was aware of people speaking around her, just not of what they were saying. In her addled state, she couldn’t tell if they were female or male, or even if there was one person or more than one person. She desperately wanted to open her eyelids but they were not quite opening due to fatigue, before she succumbed to the darkness once more. 

When she was more lucid, once again, at one point she even felt a kiss placed on her forehead as someone whispered ‘wench’. Though, that seemed more like a sweet dream of hers than any reality that would be, when she woke for real. 

Brienne started feeling more sensations, the warm brush of a thumb against the back of her hand. The sweat being wiped from her forehead with a cloth. Then, she moved her hand against the one that was holding hers. 

A sharp intake of breath, accompanied by “Brienne,” erupted from in the vicinity of her hand. The hand on her clenched hers, to the point of pain. She mustered up the strength to squeeze back. It must not have hurt the other person. Her eyes still would not open, the strain of doing so causing her too much discomfort. 

“Oh Gods, Brienne,” His voice hit her. This time she could tell it was a male voice. Though, she couldn’t place it. “Thank the gods, I’ve been sitting by your side, hoping you would awaken. I cannot apologise enough for what I did.” 

That familiar voice was making her remember something. A distant memory. She tried opening her eyes again, but she only managed to open them a little way before the light blinded her. 

“Wench, you scared me,” his voice droned on. “Your father damn near skewered me with his sword. He is a man not to be trifled with.” 

Father. Brienne thought, she had sent her father a message. A message about her child. Her eyes snapped open with a strength which she had not possessed before. All the light in the room blinding her. The babe. She tried raising her arm above her eyes but found it to be a dead weight. Looking down at her arm, her hand was joined to someone else's. Her eyes trailed up the distinctively male arm. The torso she recognised came into view, then the face, which she had spent about four sennights trying to forget came into her line of vision. Complete with stubble and a watery smile. 

“Jaime-,” Brienne started to say before coughing.

“Don’t talk yet, Breinne. Don’t over do it,” Jaime said, clearly. “She...The baby is happy and healthy and in Sansa’s charge.” He said but he was clearly omitting something. 

“Jaime...water.” 

Brienne felt something cool touch her lips. The liquid running down her throat reminiscent of what she had felt, more than a few times when coming in and out of it. 

“If..there’s...something...wrong, you’d tell me.” Brienne stated, looking Jaime in the eyes. 

After a short pause, Jaime said, “I named the baby…Joanna Lannister.” After Jaime spoke, Brienne felt the need to cry coming on, Jaime had acknowledged the child as his, that was what she wanted to happen. It filled her with a joy that she could not contain, a smile spread widely across her face. “We didn’t know if you’d make it and the baby had to have a name. Your father insisted that I name the child, we are afterall...married.”

They stayed like that, hand in hand looking each other in the eyes. Both with unshed tears in their eyes. 

“We are…” Brienne asked, uncertainly. 

“...Not officially. But we will be. I replied to the letter you sent me, telling me of the child. I proposed marriage to you and I left for Winterfell as soon as I could. Then, I got the most surprising second letter, detailing how we were already married and that I should prepare myself to battle the great Selwyn Tarth. The wench does presume a lot. Sending her father notice that we were to be married before even asking me. He damn near killed me for it too, despite his age, he is spry. When I got her I feared I was too late to even get a chance to talk to you.” Jaime paused then, after letting this tirade of emotion out, he continued in a softer tone, “I know, I’ve not done right by you in the past, but I plan to do right by you and Joanna in the future. Will you marry me, Lady Brienne of Tarth?”

“Jaime, that is the best that I could have asked for. Yes, I will marry you.” 

“Brienne. Having a child with you is more than I could have hoped for. Marrying you, that is something, I never thought would happen,” Jaime kissed her on the forehead once more. Her dreamlike imagination hadn’t conjured that up, that had happened at least once before. 

“By the way, your father has been beside himself with worry. Are you feeling up to seeing him and the baby?”

“Yes, I should like to see them both...but you’ll be here too?” Brienne said, only slightly worried that he was going to vanish off into the night again. 

“I’ll be here for you and Joanna. Always and forever. From this day until the end of my days. On my last day, I should like to be in your arms still.”


End file.
